


Worth Loving

by meleonon



Series: The Journey [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Westeros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:05:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meleonon/pseuds/meleonon
Summary: The day had started off well enough.Blinking and breathing deeply, Jorah felt himself be lifted from the ground and forced to his feet.“You aren’t allowed to die Mormont. Not today.”





	Worth Loving

**Author's Note:**

> This short story goes along with my larger work, The Journey You Take, and was written on the request of fanoftheknight. I'm sure it could be read on its own, just know that its a modern Westeros and Jorah and Daenerys are in a relationship already.  
> Basically, this story tells of the end of Jorah's time in the military and how he received a scar on his side that Daenerys was curious about. 
> 
> Also, it does dip into the abuse that Lynesse put Jorah through during their marriage...which I hadn't planned on adding to this story, but it just kind of happened.

Groaning as the Braavosi’s bayonet tore through his side, Jorah jerked backwards and covered the wound with his gloved hand as he fell to his knees.

To his right, he heard the pop of a gun being fired and the Braavosi fell without a sound.

Blinking and breathing deeply, Jorah felt himself be lifted from the ground and forced to his feet.

“You aren’t allowed to die Mormont. Not today.”

The other man’s voice sounded miles away and Jorah turned his head to meet the pair of dark eyes that were watching him.

Jorah pulled his hand away from the deep gash, unsurprised it came away covered in blood. Blood he could feel running down his side and upper thigh as it soaked his uniform.

It didn’t hurt, not really.

But he knew that he was still jacked on adrenaline and once it faded, it would hurt like a bitch.

The other man noticed the way Jorah swayed on his feet as darkness began to trickle into the sides of his vision and threw Jorah’s arm around his shoulder to help move him away from the battlefield.

Jorah wasn’t much of a help, his legs starting to feel sluggish and his vision slowly leaving him as blood loss started to take him down.

“Stay with me Mormont. You aren’t dying saving my ass.”

They were inches apart from one another, yet Jorah could barely hear him.

Seeing the medical tents getting closer, or maybe they were ones moving nearer, he couldn’t quite tell at this point, Jorah let out a sigh of relief.

The second his head hit the cot, ground...whatever he was settled on, Jorah let the darkness take him.

___

The day had started off well enough.

Jorah had been trudging through the mucky ground alongside the Rhoyne, his gun slung over his shoulder and another resting against his hip.

The military unit he was with had been marching for weeks now and spirits had been higher than they had been in days.

Jorah chuckled with the two men in the unit that he had bonded with, seeing them both as the brothers he never had.

“Well that is a rare sound indeed boys! Jorah Mormont laughing! Today is going to be a good day!” Balha had laughed heartily, slapping Jorah on the shoulder and grinning gap-toothily at Maran.

Maran smiled back with a soft chuckle of his own, before shifting the gun strap on his shoulder as they continued to march ever onwards.

“Now if only we could get Balha to shut up once in a while Maran.” Jorah quipped back half seriously, eliciting a laugh from the quiet man.

“That will be the day the Narrow Sea freezes over.” Maran replied, feeling carefree around the only two men in the unit that accepted him as being worth something.

He was a young man, Jorah had noticed the first time he had seen Maran, and it made him curious as to why he had joined the military.

The boy had startled when Jorah had come over to introduce himself and muttered down to his feet whenever he replied.

Bit by bit, Jorah had chipped away at Maran’s armor and learned that, after his mother died, his father had remarried to a woman that had children from a previous marriage.

His new step-mother didn’t like Maran and felt that he was taking away her husband’s love for her own children and ordered him gone.

And so his father did as she said and kicked his trueborn son out of the house.

Maran didn’t know what to do, the military being the only option he knew would take him, so he signed up and, throughout basic training, was constantly bullied for not being ‘military material’.

He was a quiet young man and turned away from violence and even Jorah couldn’t help but think that the kid was in the wrong place.

After Maran opened up to Jorah, he felt comfortable around the Westerosi man and spent his days with him, something that made Jorah feel good.

It was nice being wanted and not have the other person screaming at him for one thing or another.

Rubbing at his shoulder where the bruise that Lynesse had left him with before Jorah had packed his belongings and drafted into the military to be sent to Essos, he frowned at the memory that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

~~~~

He had been living paycheck to paycheck for a few months now and was struggling to support him and his wife.

Working at his father’s company had paid well, more than enough to live off of normally. Especially as Jeor left Jorah in charge more and more as he got older.

Jorah knew his father was planning on passing the company leadership to him within a few years, whether Jorah wanted the position or not.

The problem was that Lynesse liked expensive things and would complain about not being happy unless she got those expensive things.

She spent more than he made and many nights he would go without food just so she could eat instead.

Jorah loved Lynesse, he truly did, but most nights it wasn’t enough for her to be happy.

Sitting in his office one day, Jorah made a decision that effectively changed his life.

Selling off a trio of smaller branches of the company in Essos, Jorah managed to put a larger chunk of money into his pocket.

Hopefully enough so he could live comfortably for a few years.

His father had found out and was pissed.

And so they yelled at one another for hours.

Jorah couldn’t recall what exactly was said, all he could remember was the way his stomach ached in guilt and hunger.

He walked out on his father, ignoring the way the older man yelled at him to get back there.

He went home, to where his beautiful wife was...

Was in bed with another man.

Another younger, obviously richer man.

Thus began another yelling fit and Jorah didn’t think he could take anymore.

_“I’ve had enough of it Jorah! You don’t love me enough and I...”_

_“I love you plenty Lyn! What more do you want from me!?”_

_“No Jorah. You don’t love me. All you do is tell me to stop spending money and you barely buy food anymore. Do you want me to starve?”_

_“I can’t buy food when you spend everything I earn on unnecessary crap.”_

_“Unnec...I don’t buy **crap**! You’re just a frugal, unloving asshole! I don’t even know _why _I agreed to marry someone like you! I could have had **anyone** I wanted, but no! I got stuck with an ugly, balding bastard of a man!”_

It wasn’t the first time she had yelled such at him, but this time it hit him hard and he thought, perhaps, she was right.

She could have had anyone she wanted.

Lynesse was young and she was beautiful.

And yet she was stuck in a marriage to him.

Jorah knew he wasn’t a good looking man, not one that women would call handsome.

Turning his back on her, he walked into their bedroom and grabbed his bag to start filling it up with the few belongings that mattered to him.

_“What do you think you are doing!?”_

She had followed him into the bedroom to continue the fight.

_“Packing. I’m done Lyn, I can’t do this anymore.”_

_“You can’t leave me! How am I supposed to buy anything without money? I’m going to starve!”_

Of course, he snorted, she didn’t care that **he** was leaving, but the money he brought in wouldn’t be coming home with him.

_“I don’t know. I’m sure your man would be willing to help you.”_

His shoulder jolted forward as she threw the large brass vase that had been standing on her dresser at him.

_“Fucking hell Lynesse!”_

_“You’re a bastard Jorah! I can’t believe you are leaving me! You should be grateful that I’m willing to let you even fuck me, with your face I’m sure women aren’t lining up for you.”_

Jorah met her eyes breathlessly.

Did she really not love him?

Ignoring the way his shoulder throbbed where the metal vase had hit him, Jorah grabbed his bag and walked past her, jerking his arm out of her grasp when she grabbed his elbow.

_“You can’t leave me Jorah! You can’t!”_

_“I can Lyn and I am. I can’t deal with you anymore.”_

She was speechless for a long while, but she stormed out of the bedroom after him, her anger raging.

_“If you walk out of that door Jorah, I will file for a divorce and then I can laugh when you die a lonely, sad old man after you realize that I was the only woman on the face of this planet that would willingly marry an ugly sod like you.”_

He walked out, shutting the door behind him without a second thought.

Without a job and soon to be single, Jorah enlisted in the military and was flown to Essos that very night.

~~~

“You get lost there Mormont?” Balha asked, shoving his shoulder and bringing Jorah out of past.

“I’m fine.” Jorah replied half-heartedly, the memories of Lynesse and the disappointment he was to his father had dampened the bright mood of the morning.

“Maybe he was trying to tune you out Balha.” Maran joked softly, coming to walk side by side with Jorah and leave the louder man behind them.

Balha huffed and puffed up his chest, laughing in mirth as he started to run in order to catch up with Maran and Jorah.

“Oh come on, I’m not that loud am...”

A gunshot rang out and the unit dropped to take cover as well as they could.

Pulling Maran behind a rocky outcropping, Jorah slipped his rifle off his shoulder and glanced to the young man by his side.

“Breath Maran. You’ll be fine.”

With an uncertain nod, Maran readied his own rifle and turned to meet Jorah’s eyes.

Opening his mouth to ask a question that he would never get to ask, Jorah flinched as warm blood spattered his face.

Maran wheezed and slumped to the ground.

Jorah and Balha both dropped farther behind the rocks to get out of the line of fire.

They hadn’t anticipated the Braavosi to ambush them farther south than the location they had last known them to be.

Shifting closer to the dying man, Jorah pressed his hand over the bullet hole on the boy’s neck, knowing that nothing would be able to save him.

Maran managed to meet Jorah’s gaze one last time as he gasped for a breath he couldn’t take, his eyes becoming unfocused and glazed over. He breathed out for the last time and Jorah felt the life leave the young man’s body.

Jorah didn’t have time to mourn the loss for long, gunshots ringing out all around him as the battle continued to rage.

Running his fingers over Maran’s face to close his eyes as he said a quiet farewell, Jorah moved closer to Balha and steadied his gun.

He didn’t know how many Braavosi soldiers were out there or how many of their unit had been killed in the initial confusion and panic.

It wasn’t long before the Braavosi stormed the river bed and engaged them fully, bayonets taking out man after man. They simply weren’t prepared for the way the Braavosi fought, bullets and knifes killing easily half the men in the unit that Jorah had slowly come to see as brothers.

Jorah shot as many of the enemies he could, trying to save men in his unit from attacks that would have ended their lives.

Head snapping to his left as he heard Balha cry out, Jorah quickly took stock of the situation before him.

Balha was trying to reload his gun and a tall Braavosi man was rushing the Summer Islander with his bayonet.

Not having the time to take aim and try to shoot the man, Jorah reached out and grabbed Balha’s shoulder, pulling him back and down and out of the way of the bayonet.

In moving Balha out of the way, he put himself right into the path of the blade.

Jorah felt the metal slice into his side and scrape against his bottom rib before coming out around his back.

It was in those next few minutes that he learned that you see your life flash behind your eyes as you die.

It was in the moment that the gunshot rang out from Balha’s rifle and the Braavosi that had tried to gut him had hit the ground dead that Jorah realized he was terrified of dying.

Flashes of silver and violet danced in his eyes and he knew then that he didn’t want to die, he couldn’t die.

“You aren’t allowed to die Mormont. Not today.”

Balha told him, but it was another voice that urged him to live that made him fight.

_“I command you to live Jorah Mormont. I need you by my side.”_

The sweet yet powerful feminine voice echoed in his head, or at least he assumed it was only in his head since there wasn’t any women around for miles and he had never heard her voice before.

He barely registered that Balha was dragging him to the medical tents and it took everything he had left in him to stay conscious as the other man settled him in the tent.

_“I have loved you from the moment I met you.”_

What sounded like his own voice said within his head as he faded from consciousness into the black void.

___

When Jorah awoke days later, he blinked the haziness from his eyes and looked over to where Balha was sitting next to him.

“I knew you were a stubborn one. Can’t kill you off easily can they?” Balha chuckled somberly.

Jorah said nothing, he didn’t have the energy to and he didn’t know what to say as he recalled the way Maran stared at him as he died.

His heart ached for the boy that had died much too young, on a battlefield he shouldn’t have been on.

“You saved my life Jorah. That blade was meant for me.”

Jorah nodded, then forced his lips up into a pained smile.

“I wasn’t going to sit back and watch you die too.”

Balha sighed, sitting forward in his chair and placing his hand on Jorah’s arm.

“I owe you one. Thank you.”

Jorah shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows.

“No. You owe me nothing.”

“Still, anything you want and I will do everything in my power to give it to you.”

Jorah sighed, dropping his head onto the pillow with a pained groan as the small movement jostled his injured and now throbbing side.

They lapsed into a silence then, neither quite sure what to say.

Balha couldn’t keep his mouth still for long and he finally started talking again.

“So what are you going to do now? Where will the great Mormont go?”

He hadn’t thought about it truthfully.

Now that the battle with the Braavosi was won and Jorah was injured, he could ask for an honorable discharge and return home if he so pleased.

“Home I suppose. I haven’t been back to Westeros in five years. What about you?”

The Summer Islander hummed thought fully for a moment before smiling.

“I’m thinking about opening up a hotel. The greatest hotel in the entirety of Mereen!”

It was a nice idea, Jorah thought. Better than fighting battles that felt pointless only to die alone in the mud.

“Promise me you will visit sometime Mormont.”

“I promise. Take care of yourself Balha Xos.”

~~~

“It would be years before we would see each other again. Balha had managed to fulfill his dream of having the most luxurious hotel in Mereen.”

“That bed was one of the most comfortable beds we’ve made love on.”

Jorah chuckled, pressing his nose into the woman in his arm’s silver locks and breathed deeply, inhaling the flowery scent of the shampoo she uses.

“Aye, it was wasn’t it?”

Lifting her head to meet his gaze, Daenerys’ violet eyes sparkled in amusement.

“You don’t think he would let us buy one of them for our bedroom?”

She laughed, kissing him before settling her head back on his chest with a content sigh.

“You know, you were right I think.” Jorah whispered and she snorted amusedly.

“When have I been wrong before?” She teased, tilting her head back to look up at him. “I knew that talking about the past would help bring closure to things that would be otherwise painful.”

Daenerys shifted into him further, wrapping her arm around his waist and releasing a sigh into his chest.

“Thank you Daenerys.” He told her, feeling the way she hummed travel through her.

“What for?” Daenerys murmured sleepily, her eyes shut.

“For listening. For being here for me. For letting me love you.” Jorah felt her lips lift in a smile against his skin before she lifted her head to meet his eyes.

“I’ll always be here to listen. I love you too Jorah.” Pressing her lips to his, Daenerys rested her forehead against his and stared into his beautiful blue eyes.

“And I’ll always be here when you need me love.” Kissing her once more before she settled her head on his chest again, Jorah sighed happily.

Talking about his past wasn’t always easy for him, especially not when it brought old scars, both physical and emotional, back to the forefront of his mind.

Daenerys just had this way about her that eased his mind and made him feel that nothing else mattered.

Nothing but her.

He would go to the ends of the world to make her happy and it made him feel good knowing that she wouldn’t take advantage of him like Lynesse had nor would she ever say the things his second wife had said.

Daenerys gave him purpose in his life.

She was his strength that allowed him to _finally_ understand that Lynesse had been wrong all those years ago and that he was someone that could be worth loving.

Feeling slender fingers running over the scar that ran across his side from the bayonet, Jorah tightened his hold on the one woman that meant everything to him as they both drifted off.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
